The "horn" is an emblem of power and pre-eminence, and Hannah speaks of its

exaltation. She had been degraded and despised for the childless

condition, and had suffered reproach from the daughters of Israel, in

particular from Peninnah; but she had now, through the mercy of God, risen

to distinction, and obtained the object of her warmest solicitude. The

lips which before moved in secret whispers or inarticulate prayer, are now

taught to praise! The horn was also an instrument of music, and was lifted

up to be sounded in the sacred chorus. In the days of David we read of the

sons of Heman, who were to "lift up the horn;" and this pious woman

perhaps borrowed the allusion to represent the ardour of her worship and

the triumph that inspired her tongue.

If, with her solemn praises, Hannah blended a momentary recollection of

the unkindness with which she had been treated, it was solely to express

her thankfulness for deliverance, and not to produce a charge against her

enemies. "Her mouth was enlarged," indeed, but not to utter the language

of retaliation, not in passionate exclamations or in threatening words,

but to memorialize the goodness of the Lord. Nor was this her only source

of joy. Temporal interposition served but to remind her of spiritual

blessings; and, while her spirit exulted in the birth of Samuel, she

looked forward to a more auspicious day, and rejoiced in the "salvation"

which should hereafter be accomplished by the incarnation of the Redeemer.

Winged with holy rapture, she now ascends far above all earthly interests

and concerns; and quiting the subject, to which she had made but a

transient allusion, though of the deepest personal importance, she

meditates alone on infinite perfection:

"_There is none holy as the Lord: for there is none besides thee: neither

is there any rock like our God. Talk no more so exceeding proudly; let not

arrogancy come out of your mouth; for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and

by him actions are weighed_."

The attributes of the Divine Being excite in the bosoms of the wicked

unmingled dread. Every manifestation of his character is an appeal against

their impieties, and hence they "desire not the knowledge of his ways." In

a state of innocence the presence of the blessed God enhanced the

felicities of Paradise, and nothing but the estrangement which sin has

occasioned could have so altered the views and perverted the inclinations

of mankind as to render the best of beings an object of terror; but in

proportion to the renewal of the mind will be the return of that feeling

of complacency which was cherished by unfallen man, and is felt by sinless

immortals.

In all the principal events of her own life, and in the general

regulation of human affairs, Hannah perceived a display of those

perfections which she now celebrates; the perfections of holiness, power,

omniscience, and justice. Nothing is better calculated to suppress the

arrogance of man than the contemplation of these divine excellencies,

which are so many rays of one ineffable glory; distinct yet blended;

separate, yet harmonious in their operations. The history of pagan nations

supplies ample proof that the spirituality of the divine essence, which

implies the existence and exercise of these attributes, is too high an

idea for a creature sunk under the dominion of his senses: he cannot

ascend to the conception of infinite purity and wisdom: God is not known,

and cannot be discovered as the searcher of hearts, and the righteous

dispenser of good and evil, life and death: he cannot realize his

unlimited dominion, nor imagine the pervading presence of that all-seeing

eye which looks through the universe, penetrates every concealment, and

observes, with leisurely and perfect survey, every movement of the soul.

It is the province of revelation to disclose these great facts, and the

privilege of piety to triumph in them.

"_The bows of the mighty men are broken, and they that stumbled are girded

with strength. They that were full have hired out themselves for bread;

and they that were hungry ceased: so that the barren hath borne seven: and

she that hath many children hath waxed feeble_."

The dispensations of Providence illustrate his perfections. Often, indeed,

they do not accord with human plans or expectations, but they are

nevertheless marked with wisdom and equity. In accomplishing the mighty

purposes of omnipotence the strong are sometimes weakened, and the feeble

supplied with power; the wealthy are impoverished, and the poor enriched;

the childless blessed with families, and those whose tables are surrounded

with a smiling offspring made to weep over their fading health and

glory. For,

"_The Lord killeth, and maketh alive; he bringeth down to the grave, and

bringeth up. The Lord maketh poor, and maketh rich: he bringeth low, and

lifteth up. He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth up the

beggar from the dunghill, to set them among princes, and to make them

inherit the throne of glory: for the pillars of the earth are the Lord's,

and he hath set the world upon them_."

These changes are frequently ascribed, by unthinking mortals, to mere

chance, or at least to the uncontrolled operation of second causes. Hannah

ascribes them "to the Lord." Her faith discerned an invisible hand, and

rejoiced in an omniscient superintendance. Whatever confusion appears to

the eye of sense to prevail in the world, religion has access behind the

scenes, observes the finger that touches the prime spring of this vast

machine of providence, and sees nothing but harmonious movements,

concurrent designs, merciful and intelligible plans, perfect and universal

order. The perspective of human affairs is to such an one complete; he is

placed by the fear of God in the very point of observance; he looks to the

distant results, to the termination of the series, and every object, to

his renewed sight, appears in just and proportionate dimensions. Unless

seen from this point, every thing will be out of place and contradictory;

and human arrogance will naturally arraign as irregular, imperfect, or

unwise, what genuine piety will acknowledge to be best.

"_He will keep the feet of his saints, and the wicked shall be silent in

darkness; for by strength shall no man prevail. The adversaries of the

Lord shall be broken to pieces; out of heaven shall he thunder upon them:

the Lord shall judge the ends of the earth; and he shall give strength

unto his king, and exalt the horn of his anointed_."

There is a _progressive_ energy in this sacred song. Hannah warms into

enthusiasm as she proceeds, till, under the influence of a heavenly

inspiration, she assumes the language of prophecy, and becomes "wrapt into

future times." At the opening, she expressed her gratitude for personal

blessings; hence she is led to celebrate the perfections of Jehovah: then

she proclaims the interference of his providence in the vicissitudes of

this lower world: and finally, proceeds to contrast the destinies of the

righteous and wicked, as resulting from the manifestation of the Messiah

to rule over all nations by a spiritual and everlasting dominion. In that

name which is above every name, in the hallowed name of the ANOINTED ONE,

the song of Hannah terminates. What greater honour could be conferred on a

woman than to be gifted with that spirit of prophecy which first announced

the approaching Redeemer, to whom all the prophets gave witness? She

speaks of his authority as a "King," his administration as a "Judge," his

work as a Priest and Prophet, prefigured by that oil which was poured upon

the most eminent of mankind, who were types of the distinguished Personage

who was to come, and who is therefore designated as the Lord's "Anointed."

How great his influence! "he will keep the feet of his saints!" How

terrible his power! "the adversaries of the Lord shall be broken in

pieces: out of heaven shall he thunder upon them." Preposterous indeed is

the hope of his enemies, that they shall evade the destruction of his iron

rod; while pleasing and well-founded is the expectation of his saints, who

bow with unreluctant submission, with grateful acceptance, to his

golden sceptre.

Almost twelve hundred years were yet until when Hannah uttered this

prediction of the Messiah; and yet her faith, overleaping the ages of

intervening time, beheld his glory, and triumphed in his salvation. No

darkness could blind her perceptions, nothing could repress her love: she

lived as it were, in advance, and, like many of her illustrious

predecessors and of her posterity, believed in Christ to the saving of

her soul.

These ages are passed away, and many more are numbered since the actual

manifestation of the Son of God in human nature. We are partakers of his

day; we live in the light of his glory: from the ages of prediction, we

are advanced to those of accomplishment; from the time of shadows to the

era of reality. And have we _improved_ upon the past, in the strength of

our faith or in the warmth of our attachment to the Lord of glory? Would a

fair comparison of our state of mind with that of early saints, in far

distant ages, prove advantageous or unfavourable to our character? Is our

piety proportionate to our privileges? Does the intensity of our love

equal the clearness of our discoveries? These are salutary questions, and

questions of practical importance. Let us aim to be able to put them often

to our consciences without a blush.

Very little more information is communicated respecting Hannah: her

history is merged in that of her distinguished son. We have, however, a

beautiful picture of her maternal character, a record of the blessing

which the aged priest pronounced upon the family, and an account of five

other children which Providence gave them: "Samuel ministered before the

Lord, being a child girded with a linen ephod. Moreover his mother made

him a little coat, and brought it to him from year to year, when she came

up with her husband to offer the yearly sacrifice. And Eli blessed

Elkanah and his wife, and said, The Lord give thee seed of this woman, for

the loan which is lent to the Lord. And they went unto their own home. And

the Lord visited Hannah, so that she conceived and bare three sons and two

daughters."

The good mother and the eminent saint are delightfully blended in the wife

of Elkanah, and the influence of each is obvious in Samuel. Eli seems to

have beheld him with unusual affection. He had been early trained to

gentleness, docility, and goodness. Discipline at home commenced from his

first infancy, and continuing to the moment of his removal to Shiloh,

prepared him for the course of life to which he was so soon introduced.

Too often the petulance and frowardness of children indicate the defective

nature of their education: indulgence has permitted the wild plant to

shoot forth its branches with irregular luxuriancy, and it has become both

unsightly and enfeebled for want of being properly pruned. To suffer the

propensities and passions of children to go unrestrained is the extreme of

cruelty, being the most direct means of rendering them burdens to society

and tormentors to themselves.

Hannah, with admirable firmness, relinquished her youthful charge to the

care of Eli at the call of duty, and with no less admirable affection and

prudence, continued to maintain that kind of intercourse which tends to

promote mutual love. A _passionate_ mother would have urged her husband to

remove to Shiloh, for the sake of having her little darling perpetually

under her eye; a _prudent_ one chose to remain at Ramah, only bringing her

present at the annual festivals. True love knows when to separate, and is

ready to make necessary sacrifices to the good of a valued child. He was

in excellent hands, training to a noble work, under a venerable priest,

and in conformity to a solemn vow. Providence was not unobservant of his

mother's heroism and piety, and she is amply repaid, not only by his

superior excellence, but by her own increasing family. _One_ child is lent

to the Lord, _five_ are given. She possessed with gratitude, she resigned

with magnanimity, and she is recompensed by multiplication.

Let children never forget the debt they owe to maternal tenderness, a debt

which the devoted affection and kindness of a whole life can scarcely

discharge. Let the fond parent who nursed your infancy, corrected your

frowardness, sowed the seeds of knowledge and piety in your heart,

watched, wept, and prayed over you, be ever dear, ever respected, and

loved. She who has sustained your weakness, may live to need support from

your strength; she who hold you up in the helplessness of infancy, may

require your supporting arm, and deserves your sympathizing aid in the

years of her decrepitude.

Young persons need to be reminded, however, that even the impiety of

parents is no sufficient reason for disrespecting them _as parents_; and

if you possess the inestimable treasure of religion, it will be best

evinced in soothing the cares, ministering to the necessities, and setting

an example of every duty before the eyes of those who are still so unhappy

as to be destitute of it. But you who are born of the children of God, and

who have been nourished and educated under the wing of parental piety, can

never be too thankful to the God of your salvation, and at some future

period may have to adopt the poet's elevated strain:

"My boast is not that I deduce my birth

From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth;

But higher far my proud pretensions rise--

The son of parents pass'd into the skies."

Cowper.

Abigail.

Chapter XI.

Many persons naturally capable of great Attainments and elevated

Stations have lived and died unknown--the Dispensations of Providence

analogous in this respect to the Arrangements of Nature--Scripture

Account of Nabal and Abigail--Sources of Incongruous

Marriages--Ambition--Wish to maintain the Respectability of a

Family--Persuasion of Friends--early Disappointments--Nabal's Conduct to

David--Abigail's Interposition--Death of her Husband--She becomes

David's Wife.

Millions of the human race, naturally capable of great attainments and

mighty exploits, had they been differently circumstanced, or had their

mental and moral energies been properly cultivated, have died as they have

lived, in a state of obscurity. Unknown to the rest of mankind even by

name, they have scarcely wandered from the precincts of their native

village, or the cottage that gave them birth; but, like the wild flowers

of the untrodden wilderness, have sprung up, and bloomed, and perished

upon the same spot. Successive generations have occupied the identical

sphere of their ancestors, living in the same unenvied seclusion, and at

last carried to the same undistinguished grave.

Whoever has had an opportunity of knowing the state of society and the

character of man in retirement, must be aware that the amazing disparity

subsisting between the extremes of rusticity and of polished life arises

far less from original disproportions of capacity than from the accidental

circumstances which attach to the two conditions. Education has a

tendency to remove these differences, to elevate the inferior classes of

society from their degradation, to raise them in the scale of being and to

unite man to man: but still more important effects result from religion,

which, by fixing the thoughts on holy and heavenly objects, and firing the

breast with incessant ardour in the pursuit of them, advances the

character to a dignity otherwise unattainable. How much humble piety has

bloomed in the by-paths of life far from the crowded highway of the world,

amidst the recesses of privacy! How often has the beauty of holiness

adorned the most misshapen, or otherwise unattractive exterior! How many

great and pious individuals have occupied the vale of poverty, the objects

of divine approbation and of angelic joy; who, under different

circumstances, might have been ornaments of the political world, or lights

in the church of God; and will be pillars for ever in the

celestial temple!

These dispensations of Providence are analogous to certain arrangements in

nature. How many showers descend, and how many vegetable productions grow

in barren wildernesses! It is not till after ages of research that a few

species and varieties have been discovered; and it may be questioned

whether an equal, if not a far greater number, still exist in the

unfrequented solitudes of creation, which science may not visit for

centuries yet to come: and of those which are at present known, a few only

of their qualities, and the uses for which they were formed, have been

ascertained. To pronounce a condemnatory sentence upon that wisdom which

assigned them their places, merely on account of our incapacity to

discover their precise destination, would be presumptuous and impious in

the extreme; nor would it be less so to contemn the unsearchable mysteries

of Providence, whose arrangements surpass the comprehension and confound

the inquiries of man.

Some of those "lights shining in a dark place" have, however, been

occasionally brought into view by unexpected circumstances; and more than

one is exhibited through the medium of the inspired word. They would have

for ever remained in concealment, and their names have perished, excepting

from the book of God's remembrance, but for some apparent casualty. A

history of _incidents_ would furnish a most delightful record of

Providence, showing its secret, but certain operations, and its

connecting, though, to superficial observers, invisible links. One of

these, in the life of David, presents the brief, but interesting account

of ABIGAIL, who, like Job in Uz, Joseph in Egypt, and Daniel in Chaldea,

exhibited a specimen of solitary excellence, which at length emerged from

obscurity, and, by means of her connection with one of the most eminent of

mankind, shone in an appropriate sphere.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, about 1058.]

She is thus introduced to our notice, in the scriptural narrative, at a

time when the son of Jesse was "hunted like a partridge upon the

mountains" by his royal persecutor. "And David arose, and went down to the

wilderness of Paran. And there was a man in Maon, whose possessions were

in Carmel: and the man was very great, and he had three thousand sheep and

a thousand goats: and he was shearing his sheep in Carmel. Now the name of

the man was Nabal; and the name of his wife, Abigail: and she was a woman

of good understanding, and of a beautiful countenance: but the man was

churlish and evil in his doings; and he was of the house of Caleb."

The contrast which the characters of Nabal and Abigail exhibit, may well

excite astonishment, that persons so dissimilar should have become united

by the tender ties of matrimony, and may lead us to inquire a little into

the sources of some incongruities of this kind, which not unfrequently

make their appearance in society. How is it, that _adaptation to each

other_, in point of mental and moral qualities especially, which seems so

great a prerequisite to happiness, should seldom form the basis of an

union voluntarily contracted, and incapable of dissolution--an union of

the closest nature, and an union for life?

Frequently an ill-assorted connection arises from an _ambitious motive_;

one party is wealthy, the other aspiring. Attracted by the gilded bait, it

is seized too eagerly to admit of prudential considerations respecting the

possibility of concealed mischief, from which, like the fish once caught

by the hook, it is too late to be disentangled. It cannot be asserted that

Abigail was induced to marry her churlish husband from such a motive,

though it will not be deemed improbable by those whose experience of the

world convinces them that even persons like her, of good understanding,

beauty, and piety, are sometimes guilty of similar improprieties. Riches

are, on many accounts, attractive to those whose immaturity of judgment is

dazzled by the glare of life, and who are consequently too apt to

associate in their conceptions things which, in reality, have no

connection--_splendour_ and _happiness_. The mind is naturally gratified

by a sense of elevation above the usual level of mankind, as persons

ascending in an air-balloon become elevated, even amidst their dangers, in

consequence of attaining a height impossible to others, and attracting the

idle gaze of spectators on the ground. It is supposed also, that wealth

will furnish some covert from the storms of adversity, if not a perfect

security against them; and, forgetting that it tends to multiply and

extend our wants in a ten-fold proportion to the means of supplying them,

the sheep and the goats of a Nabal are viewed with ardent but mistaken

fondness. It is difficult to convince the young of their errors upon this

subject; nevertheless, we forewarn them that the experiment is hazardous,

the prospect delusory, the possessions of life uncertain, and utterly

incapable of compensating for the absence of moral qualities and social

suitabilities; above all, we proclaim the criminality of cherishing an

avaricious disposition, and the practical falsehood of giving it the name

of love. A young woman acting upon this principle literally fulfils the

common representation of the case, by _throwing herself away_, and, in one

rash moment, forfeits her reputation and her happiness.

This unsuitability of connexion in married life sometimes originates in a

mutual, but foolish _wish to maintain the respectability of the family_.

In such instances both are wealthy, and join their fortunes as a sort of

compromise to the opinion of the world and their own pride, for the sake

of maintaining their rank. It is true, an equality, or some fair

proportion in point of fortune, as society is constituted, seems in itself

_desirable_, and, if it can be accomplished, is as legitimate an object of

pursuit as similarity of age or of mind; but the practice of making this

an absolute prerequisite, of sacrificing to it the affections of the

heart, and, qualifications of far greater importance, of rendering the

want of it a sufficient ground of refusing a matrimonial alliance, though

age, temper, religion, and every commendable quality, may be placed in the

other scale, and of deeming the possession of it enough when other great

requisites are absent, is both foolish and wicked. No reason can exist, in

such a case, why an Abigail--a woman of "good understanding," should

connect herself with a Nabal--a man "churlish and evil in his doings."

Occasionally the same evil arises from the _persuasion of others_,

especially of those who are entitled to respect, and who sometimes, very

improperly, interpose authority instead of suggesting advice. The parties

immediately concerned would by no means, if left to themselves, select

each other as companions for life, but marry merely to satisfy their

friends. It can never be regarded as otherwise than extreme cruelty in

those who compel their children to gratify _their_ predilections, instead

of allowing them their _own_ choice. As this is a connexion, the happiness

of which so essentially depends upon the affections, and as no argument

can force the heart into an attachment from which it naturally, or perhaps

capriciously revolts, and as moreover, the comfort of existence results

from the state of the mind far more than from any external circumstances

whatever; reason and religion prescribe, that, after due caution and

admonition, persons should be permitted to determine ultimately for

themselves, without being subjected to the miserable alternative of

accepting parental choice or forfeiting parental fondness.

Incongruous connexions may also originate in one or both of the parties

having suffered _previous disappointment._ Young persons under the pang

occasioned by the failure of a romantic attachment, foolishly resolve no

more to consult affection, or even to allow it any share in the

determination of their choice. They imagine it needless any longer to

expect happiness, because they cannot possess the individual they supposed

alone capable of promoting it, and repair to marriage merely as a refuge

from solitude or from reproach. In such cases, they deem it of

comparatively trifling consequence with whom they connect themselves,

refusing to admit it possible that they should ever more obtain peace

of mind.

Nothing, however, can be more delusive than such a feeling. The immaturity

of the judgment at the early age of first attachments, renders it probable

that they may not, in reality, have made the best selection, and that

their preferences were determined rather by casual circumstances and

accidental impressions, than any knowledge of character or any perception

of solid qualities. If the comfort of life depended upon the success of

early predilections, it is probable few would be happy; but Providence has

wisely ordered it otherwise, by constituting it independent of arbitrary

associations. Let not the young, therefore, precipitate themselves into

improper connexions--into connexions not founded on principle, and not

cemented by love, through indulging the notion that the gratification of a

first romantic attachment is essential to happiness, and that if

disappointed, it is of no importance whether they become united to a

gentle Isaac or a churlish Nabal; because, in reality, the prize is yet to

be won, the jewel is yet attainable, and Providence may have kindly

frustrated a present wish, to bestow ultimately a more substantial

benefit. "The way of man is not in himself; it is not in man that walketh

to direct his steps." Our utmost efforts cannot arrest or accelerate the

wheel of destiny, which is turned by a secret and invisible power, that

raises or depresses, subserves or frustrates our purposes, _irresistibly_

indeed, but not _arbitrarily_; making "all things work together for good

to them that love God."

The history before us represents David as still a wanderer from wilderness

to wilderness, and reduced to great extremity. Hearing of the

extraordinary festivities observed upon the occasion of Nabal's shearing

his sheep, from which he inferred his opulence, ten messengers were sent

to him to solicit, in the most respectful manner, a supply of provisions.

It was intimated, that David had not availed himself of the power which

the Arab emirs are accustomed to assume, of seizing whatever they need,

but on the contrary, had afforded protection, instead of exercising

violence. [36]

Nabal not only refused to comply with the request, but returned an

insulting answer, which the young men carried to their master. David felt

the utmost indignation, and instantly prepared to resent the affront. The

persecutions of Saul being no more than he expected, were borne with a

fortitude, and requited by a forbearance which cannot but excite our

admiration; but the unlooked-for barbarity of Nabal took him by surprise,

and threw him into a rage. We cannot justify his hostile preparations, nor

look without regret upon his rash proceeding, in taking four hundred of

his armed followers to destroy Nabal. How unlike David, the man after

God's own heart, who had been so long trained in the school of

affliction, and so often manifested a very different spirit! Alas, bow

easily are the best of men "led into temptation;" and how necessary is it

to exercise vigilance, not only over our "easy besetting sins," but over

what we deem the least vulnerable points of our character! Neglecting the

requisite precautions, we may be taken even on the strongest side, and at

the most unexpected moment.

One of the servants informed Abigail of what had occurred, stating the

message of David, and the behaviour of her husband; and, at the same time,

representing the civility with which the former had conducted himself

towards the shepherds.

A person of less understanding might have said, "Let these rival chiefs

settle the matter between themselves; my husband had an undoubted right to

do what he pleased with his own, and he has the means of defending himself

from a vindictive stranger." But Abigail wisely listened to the

information communicated by the servant, and instantly adopted a plan,

which seemed indeed the only one calculated to avert the threatened blow.

She took two hundred loaves, and two bottles of wine, and five sheep ready

dressed, and five measures of parched corn, and a hundred clusters of

raisins, and two hundred cakes of figs, which she hastened to present

to David.

This was excellent management. Had she repaired to her husband, and

endeavoured to pacify his turbulent spirit by remonstrance, reason, or

entreaty, the probability is she would have met with a repulse, and

disabled herself from any further interference. Had she merely _sent_ the

supply with which the asses were laden, the indignant son of Jesse might,

very possibly, have returned it as insufficient, or pressed on with his

armed men to compel Nabal to make reparation for the affront he had

ventured to offer. This skilful negotiator, however, goes herself to

settle the contention which had so suddenly arisen; and never, surely, was

a better arranged or more successful expedition.

The moment Abigail perceived David, she alighted from her ass, and,

falling prostrate at his feet, addressed him in language well calculated

to accomplish her wishes. Every thing was in perfect contrast with the

behaviour of Nabal--her suppliant posture--the respectful term she

chooses, calling him _lord_--the appropriation of her husband's fault to

herself--the apology she offers for him, by representing his conduct as

resulting rather from a momentary impulse than any settled malignity, as

the general failing of his nature, not the effect of any personal

malevolence--the ignorance she professes of the request which David had

sent, insinuating that otherwise he would have received a very different

return--her apparent assurance of success, delicately intimating the happy

circumstance of his being restrained from shedding blood in a momentary

fit of passion--her offer of the magnificent present she had prepared--her

congratulation upon his achievements--her confident anticipations of his

future triumphs, and final establishment in the kingdom--her reference to

Providence--her suggestion, that it would hereafter prove a source of

satisfaction that he had been prevented from committing an act which,

whatever were the provocation, must be painful to recollect, and which

must rather afflict his conscience than grace his laurels--all these

topics were well introduced, and urged with a tone of eloquence that

proved irresistible. David takes the present, thanks Abigail for her

interposition, and dismisses her, with the assurance that he had

"hearkened to her voice, and accepted her person."

Upon her return she found Nabal in a state of intoxication, totally

disregardful of danger, and ignorant of the ruin from which his prudent

wife had procured his deliverance. Thus do multitudes sport upon the brink

of everlasting destruction, heedless of the justice they have provoked,

and solicitous only of consuming those hours, and days, and years, in

indulgence, which ought to be devoted to repentance. Let the "lovers of

pleasure" reflect on three short maxims, "He that will not fear, shall

_feel_, the wrath of Heaven--He that lives in the kingdom of _Sense_ shall

die in the kingdom of _Sorrow_--He shall never truly enjoy his _present_

hour who never thinks on his _last_." [37]

Abigail properly resolved to defer any conversation with Nabal till the

morning, when she disclosed the whole affair. The surprise was so great

that "his heart died within him, and he became as a stone." Ten days

afterward he was smitten by the hand of God, and descended without honour

into the grave. No one could esteem him while living, and no one regretted

him when dead.

The news of this event having been conveyed to David, he expressed his

grateful sense of the divine goodness in keeping him from the execution of

his rash project, and in thus vindicating his cause by a signal

interference. As he had been deeply impressed with the personal charms and

good understanding of Abigail, and as no obstacle seemed to exist to

prevent their union, he took the first opportunity of proposing to marry

her; to which, with becoming expressions of humility and modesty, she

consented.

"It was a fair suit," says Bishop Hall, "to change a David for a Nabal; to

become David's queen, instead of Nabal's drudge! She, that learned

humility under so hard a tutor, abaseth herself no less when David offers

to advance her: 'Let thine handmaid be a servant to wash the feet of the

servants of my lord.' None are so fit to be great as those that can stoop

lowest. How could David be more happy in a wife? He finds at once piety,

wisdom, humility, faithfulness, wealth, beauty. How could Abigail be more

happy in a husband, than in the prophet, the champion, the anointed of

God? Those marriages are well made, wherein virtues are matched and

happiness is mutual."

The Queen of Sheba.

Chapter XII.

David's Anxiety for his Son--its happy Issue--Solomon's Prayer, and the

Answer of God--Solomon's Riches and Fame--the Queen of Sheba's

visit--her Country ascertained--such Solicitude for Wisdom not

common--She proves Solomon with hard Questions--her Desire of Knowledge

worthy of Imitation--Solomon's Conduct--his Buildings--the Queen's

congratulatory Address--Reflections--her Presents to Solomon, and his to

the Queen of Sheba--Christ's Application of the Subject.

The pious solicitude of David, the king of Israel, in his last hours, for

his son and successor, is thus recorded in the closing chapter of the

first book of Chronicles: "Give unto Solomon my son a perfect heart, to

keep thy commandments, thy testimonies, and thy statutes." With this

prayer he connected suitable and impressive advice, "Thou Solomon my son,

know thou the God of thy father, and serve him with a perfect heart and

with a willing mind; for the Lord searcheth all hearts, and understandeth

all the imaginations of the thoughts: if thou seek him, he will be found

of thee; but if thou forsake him, he will cast thee off forever."

Parental piety does not always influence, as it ought, those who by their

domestic privileges are most favourably situated for witnessing it: to all

human appearance, the language of kind remonstrance or entreaty has been

often useless, the petitions of fervent desire have failed, and the tears

of pure affection have flowed in vain. The present instance, however,

furnishes a pleasing exception to this remark; for upon Solomon's

accession to the throne, he appointed a solemn festival at Gibeon before

the tabernacle of Moses; and during the night, in which the God of Israel

desired that he would ask what he should bestow upon him, he presented a

petition, no less distinguished by its singularity in such circumstances,

than by its excellence and success. "And Solomon said unto God, Thou hast

showed great mercy unto David my father, and hast made me to reign in his

stead. Now, O Lord God, let thy promise unto David my father, be

established; for thou hast made me king over a people like the dust of the

earth in multitude. Give me now WISDOM and KNOWLEDGE, that I may go out

and come in before this people; for who can judge this thy people that is

so great? And God said to Solomon, Because this was in thine heart, and

thou hast not asked riches, wealth, or honour, nor the life of thine

enemies, neither yet hast asked long life; but hast asked wisdom and

knowledge, that thou mayest judge my people over whom I have made thee

king; WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE is GRANTED UNTO THEE; and I will give thee

RICHES, and WEALTH, and HONOUR, such as none of the kings have had that

have been before thee, neither shall there any after thee have the like."

The inspired description of Solomon's magnificence may justly excite

astonishment--a magnificence which extended to "all his drinking vessels,

which were of gold; and all the vessels of the house of the forest of

Lebanon were of pure gold; none were of silver: It was nothing accounted

of in the days of Solomon." It is natural to imagine, that the fame of so

remarkable a prince, concurring with the comparative ease with which gold

and silver were procurable, would contribute to establish that taste for

splendour which has ever distinguished the potentates of the East. It is

stated by Sir J. Chardin, that the plate of the king of Persia is of pure

gold, originally made by Shah Abbas, the most glorious of the princes of

the Sefi royal family; who, for this purpose, melted seven thousand two

hundred marks, or nearly thirty six thousand English troy ounces of _the

purest gold_. But Solomon, according to the testimony of Scripture, was

the most opulent prince that ever sat upon a throne. His annual revenues

were six hundred and sixty-six talents of gold, exclusive of the supply he

received from the customs and from tributary nations. A talent weighed

three thousand shekels, and a shekel two hundred and nineteen grains. The

king employed a navy, which, with the assistance of Tyrian vessels and

navigators, who were esteemed the most skilful in the world, fetched gold

and silver, ivory, apes, and peacocks, from Ophir, by the way of the red

sea. This voyage occupied three years.

In comparing the extremes of human society, the riches of a Solomon with

the poverty of a Bartimeus, it becomes us to recognize the hand of a

mysterious though wise Providence. He who fixed the stars of the firmament

in their proper places, determines, independently of all human control,

the orders of society and the sphere of the individual; and it is no less

consolatory than obvious, that the equitable rule by which a final

judgment of our character is to be determined, will measure the extent of

our responsibility, by an impartial estimate of our situation, our

opportunities, and our respective talents.

Attracted by the celebrity of Solomon, the QUEEN OF SHEBA came to

Jerusalem, with a train and presents suited to his dignity and her own.

Although the sovereigns of neighbouring nations paid similar visits of

ceremony and of curiosity, yet this illustrious woman is particularly

noticed in the sacred page, on account perhaps of her sex, her

inquisitiveness, the remoteness of her situation, the magnificence of her

equipage and offerings; but especially the piety of her views, and the

impressive language of her devout admiration.

The date of this interview with the king of Israel may be referred, with

sufficient accuracy, to the year of the world three thousand and twelve,

or nine hundred and ninety-two before the Christian era. This was

subsequent to the completion of the temple and of the royal houses. A

variety of opinions have prevailed respecting the kingdom of Sheba; and

some have supposed, though without sufficient reason, that this is the

name of the queen herself, and not of her country or capital. The

probability is, that _Sheba_, situated in the southern part of Arabia

Felix, and on the eastern coast of the Red Sea, is intended. Moses speaks

of Sheba, the son Joktan, a descendant of Eber, and more remotely of Shem;

and ancient authors represent his descendants, the _Sabeans_, as peopling

this district of Arabia, the metropolis of whose kingdom was denominated

_Sheba_ or _Saba_. It appears from authentic testimony, that they were

accustomed to female government; and Bochart proves, by numerous

citations, that the kingdom of Sheba was called by the Jews _the country

of the South_, which explains the phraseology of our Lord in the twelfth

chapter of Matthew. The geographical accuracy of this statement is further

corroborated, by comparing the description which the inspired historian

records of the gifts presented by this queen to Solomon, with the language

of Pliny and Herodotus: the former of whom says, "that odoriferous woods

were in use only in this country, and that the Sabean consumed them in

dressing their food;" and the latter, "that the Arabians took a thousand

talents of frankincense every year to Darius." We deem it proper to avoid

involving ourselves in a labyrinth of geographical difficulties, and have

therefore simply stated the result of our inquiries; which however may

furnish us with, at least, one serious reflection. How transitory and how

contemptible is human glory! It is not peculiar to the poor and the

destitute to be forgotten, to have their dwellings and their names perish

amidst the desolations of time; such is nearly the fate of one of the most

remarkable sovereigns of antiquity, whose visit to the greatest potentate

of the eastern world is so celebrated in Scripture. What mean our trifling

cares--our incessant solicitude about temporal possessions and worldly

distinctions? The house we now inhabit will soon be demolished and swept

away by the flood of time--the name by which we are distinguished, and the

annals of our short period of temporal existence, will soon be scarcely

remembered by our successor--all our glory will be covered with the

darkness of death! Shall we not, therefore, aim to secure an incorruptible

inheritance in the skies, and an unfading pre-eminence in the records of

eternity? "The _righteous_ shall be had in everlasting remembrance."

The design of the queen of Sheba, in repairing to Jerusalem, was not

merely to pay a visit of ceremony. She "heard of his fame concerning the

name of the Lord," and "she came to prove him with hard questions." The

report, not only of the riches, splendour, and wisdom of Solomon, but also

of the miraculous interferences of the God of Israel on behalf of his

people, and of his peculiar favour to this monarch, had reached the

distant residence of this Arabian queen; and so deep was the interest it

excited in her bosom, that she determined to undertake a journey, long and

hazardous as it might be, for the sake of investigating these

extraordinary facts. It is evident she attached a considerable degree of

credibility to the representations she had received; and relying no longer

upon subordinate means of information, she resolved upon a course of

diligent inquiry. When and where shall we discover a similar zeal to

acquire a knowledge of "the glorious Gospel of the blessed God?" How often

have Christian ministers occasion to adopt the prophetic strain, "Who hath

believed our report, and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?" How

often do all the personal excellencies, the moral glories of him who is

described as "a greater than Solomon," fail to attract mankind? Satisfied

with mere report--few apply to the sacred Scriptures as the immediate and

purest means of instruction in "the truth as it is in Jesus," after the

long-recorded example of the ancient Bereans, who "received the word (of

Paul and Silas) with all readiness of mind, and searched the Scriptures

daily, whether those things were so."

Bishop Hall very pertinently remarks, "No doubt many, from all coasts,

came to learn and wonder, none with so much note as this noble daughter of

Cham; who herself deserves the next wonder to him whom she came to hear

and admire: that a woman, a princess, a rich and great queen, should

travel from the remotest south, from Sheba, a region famous for the

greatest delicacies of nature, to learn wisdom, is a matchless example. We

know merchants that venture to either Indies for wealth; others we know

daily to cross the seas for wanton curiosity; some few philosophers we

have known to have gone far for learning; and among princes, it is no

unusual thing to send their ambassadors to far distant kingdoms, for

transaction of business either of state or commerce: but that a royal lady

should in person undertake and overcome so tedious a journey, only to

observe and inquire into the mysteries of nature, art, religion, is a

thing past both parallel and imitation. Why do we think any labour great,

or any way long, to hear a greater than Solomon? How justly shall the

queen of the South rise up in judgment, and condemn us, who may hear

wisdom crying in our streets, and neglect her?"

Among princely cares, the ardent search of truth can seldom be enumerated,

though it be a most honourable and beneficial employment. Those whom

Providence has placed in an elevated situation are usually too much

occupied with themselves, their pleasures, their pomp, and their ambitious

projects, to listen to the dictates, or to search out the mysteries of

wisdom. The concerns of an extensive empire furnish a plausible pretext

for neglecting the great interest of piety, which a deceived heart is

ready to plead in extenuation of a conduct condemned alike by reason,

conscience, and revelation. But let the rulers of nations observe David,

Solomon, and others of the kings of Israel; the splendour of whose earthly

glory was eclipsed by the superior brightness of their heavenly wisdom;

and whose names are written upon, the sacred page, not so much, because

they were _men of rank_, as because they were _men of God_. The command

of Jesus Christ is of prime importance and of universal obligation, "Seek

FIRST the kingdom of God and his righteousness;" and unless it can be

demonstrated that he has made one code of laws for the prince and another

for the peasant, or that his precepts possess an accommodating flexibility

suited to the prejudices and passions of mankind, no exception can be for

a moment admitted. As there is no royal road to the heights of human

science, but all who attain them must ascend by assiduous and persevering

application, so there is none to the summit of celestial felicity; but

persons of every class, rank, sex, and age, must follow Christ in the same

unsmoothed path of repentance and self-denial. Hence, such is the

bewitching influence of worldly splendour, so numerous and so powerful the

attractions of opulence, that we have daily and hourly proofs of the

apostle's statement: "Not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty,

not many noble, are called; but God hath chosen the weak things of the

world, to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the

world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things

which are not, to bring to nought things that are; that no flesh should

glory in his presence." But happily the long scroll of history is here and

there embellished with a name, which combines the glory that confers

pre-eminence in the present world, with the grace that secures everlasting

distinction in the next.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, about 892.]

This celebrated princess is said to have visited Solomon, "to prove him

with hard questions," by which have generally been understood enigmatical

puzzles. Some of these are to be found in sacred writ, of which the riddle

which Samson proposed to the young men of Timnath, is a very ancient and

curious specimen. It appears from the writings of the ancients, that the

Greeks and all the Eastern nations, were singularly attached to enigmas.

Plutarch, in his Feast of the Seven Sages, introduces the following

questions proposed by Amasis, the king of Egypt, to the king of Ethiopia:

"What is the most ancient thing--what the most beautiful--what the

largest--what the wisest--what the most common--what the most useful--what

the most hurtful--what the strongest--and what the most easy?" To which the

king of Ethiopia replied, "The most ancient thing is time--the most

beautiful is light--the largest is the world--the wisest is truth--the

most common is death--the most useful is God--the most hurtful is the

devil--the strongest is fortune--and the most easy, to follow one's own

inclination." In the book of Proverbs, we find several series of this

description, which originally might have been answers to questions of a

similar nature. Among others, we have this very curious and beautiful

statement: "There be four things which are little upon the earth, but they

are exceeding wise; the ants are a people not strong, yet they prepare

their meat in the summer; the conies are but a feeble folk, yet make they

their houses in the rocks; the locusts have no king, yet go they forth all

of them by bands; the spider taketh hold with her hands, and is in kings'

palaces." To the same class may be referred the following paragraph in the

third chapter of Ecclesiastes: "To every thing there is a season, and a

time to every purpose under the heaven: a 'time to be born, and a time to

die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time

to kill, and a time to heal: a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time

to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to get, and a

time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and

a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to

love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace."

Enigmatical questions and answers may easily degenerate into mere childish

amusement: but it is due to the celebrity of the queen of Sheba, to

suppose that her inquiries were principally directed to the great purpose

of information. She was indeed curious to _prove_ Solomon, to ascertain

whether his reputation for wisdom were the result of mere courtly

panegyric and flattering report, or whether it really originated in a

supernatural endowment--but still more anxious to acquire knowledge

"concerning the name of the Lord." While, therefore, she discovered a

laudable desire of information upon subjects connected with the

improvement of her mind, in general knowledge, and in political wisdom;

she aspired after a more intimate acquaintance with that heavenly truth,

which had hitherto been almost exclusively communicated to the descendants

of Abraham. In this she may be exhibited as a pattern for the particular

imitation of her own sex. No exterior accomplishments, no personal

attractions can reconcile an intelligent observer to an ignorant mind;

while such an one would be easily persuaded to dispense with external

beauty, for the sake of mental and moral worth. He would prize the jewel,

and overlook the inferiority of the casket. Curiosity is one of the most

powerful principles of our nature, and may be indulged where it is not

perverted. Let a woman assiduously cultivate, in early life especially,

her mental faculties, and cherish an inquisitive spirit upon all the

subjects of knowledge within the reach of her pursuit, still under the

constant regulation of modesty and her sister graces; and let her never

for a moment imagine, that knowledge is inimical either to her personal

happiness and influence, or to her domestic duties. So far, indeed, as an

intemperate persuit of learning disqualifies a woman for the sphere which

Providence has allotted her, so far as she is rendered proud, pedantic,

unsocial, assuming, and negligent of the proper business of every day in

her family, it is to be discouraged; not from the consideration that

_knowledge_ is an evil, but the _misuse_ of it. Its legitimate tendency is

to improve the female character--to polish off the asperities and

roughnesses occasioned by the indulgence of pride--to teach her the proper

duties of her station, and the best means of discharging them--to elevate

her into the interesting and intelligent companion of social and domestic

life--to constitute her the best instructor of her children, at that early

period when the first buddings of intellect are discernible, the first

tendencies of the mind begin to be developed, and the character for time,

perhaps for eternity, is to be formed. It is then under the hand of

maternal tenderness the model of the future man or woman is to be made;

for it is seldom, even in the most unhappy cases of apostacy, that traces

of this early formation are by any circumstances totally obliterated.

But while we plead for the cultivation of the youthful mind, by a diligent

use of all the advantages which are afforded to impart knowledge, be it

remembered, that the "wisdom which is from above" must not only be

sought--but sought _first,_ as of paramount importance. With all our

conscious superiority in other respects, if destitute of the knowledge of

"the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent," we shall prove

but as "a sounding brass, and as a tinkling cymbal." Our boasted

attainments, as enhancing our responsibility, will minister to our final

condemnation; and while imagining we have been defective in nothing, we

shall feel the everlasting remorse connected with the conviction of having

forgotten or despised the "ONE thing NEEDFUL."--

"'Tis Religion that can give

Sweetest pleasures while we live;

'Tis Religion can supply

Choicest comforts when we die."

Solomon conducted himself to the queen of Sheba in a manner highly worthy

of his wisdom, and instructive to those who are distinguished from others

by any natural or acquired superiority. He was neither reserved nor

impatient, but suffered her to "commune with him of all that was in her

heart. And Solomon told her all her questions; there was not any thing hid

from the king, which he told her not." It ill becomes those who can teach,

to be supercilious and uncommunicative. As the rich are required to supply

the necessities of the poor with a judicious liberality, being expressly

appointed as the trustees of Providence, and dispensers of its bounty; and

as those who withhold, when it is in the power of their hands to give, are

unfaithful stewards; so, persons qualified to be the instructors of

others, or who assume a station which presupposes such a qualification,

ought to exert their talents and employ their time for the benefit of the

uninformed. Is not this a lesson for the ministers of the sanctuary? For

what purpose is "heavenly treasure" committed to "earthen vessels?" Is it

not for distribution? Are they not made rich in spiritual gifts, graces,

and knowledge, that, instead of monopolizing their spiritual possessions,

they may aim to supply and enrich an impoverished world? The true

ministerial spirit breathes in the language of Peter to the lame man, who

was laid daily at the gate of the temple, "Silver and gold have I none,

_but such as I have give I thee_; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth,

rise up and walk."

Every thing her eyes beheld at Jerusalem produced, in the queen of Sheba,

surprise and admiration. Accustomed as all the eastern nations were to

splendour, she had never before witnessed such an universal and surpassing

magnificence. Solomon's wisdom--his house--his luxurious table--his

servants--his ministers--the temple, and the devotional manner of his

attendance upon its services, struck her with overwhelming astonishment.

When she had seen all these, "there was no more spirit in her."

It is easy to imagine that the TEMPLE, a structure which has been admired

in every age for its unparalleled glory, and for which such minute

directions were given by Jehovah himself, must have attracted particular

notice; especially when it is considered, that the science of architecture

was, at that period, in a very infantine state, compared to its subsequent

progress amongst the Greeks and Romans, and that temples were a species of

building probably unknown to the queen of Sheba. It is notorious that the

Persians, who worshipped the sun, erected no temple, from a persuasion it

would be derogatory to his glory who had the whole world for his

habitation; and hence the magi exhorted Xerxes to destroy all the temples

in his expedition to Greece. The Bithynians worshipped on the mountains,

the ancient Germans in the woods; and Diogenes, Zeno, and the Stoics,

expressly condemned the erection of such edifices. The Arabians rendered

homage to the sun, stars, and planets; and their religion resembled the

ancient Chaldean superstition. The illustrious visitor of Solomon must,

therefore, have been confounded at an architectural magnificence so

superior to any thing she had ever before witnessed.

The inspired historian also mentions the house of the forest of Lebanon;

his own palace, which occupied thirteen years in building; a house for

Pharaoh's daughter whom he married; with other expensive erections. "All

these were of costly stones, (according to the measures of hewed stones,

sawed with saws,) within and without, even from the foundation unto the

coping, and so on the outside towards the great court. And the foundation

was of costly stones, even great stones; stones of ten cubits, and stones

of eight cubits. And above were costly stones, (after the measures of

hewed stones) and cedars."

Josephus gives the following amplified description of these buildings:

"This house (the king's palace) was a large and curious building, and was

supported by many pillars, which Solomon built to contain a multitude for

hearing causes, and taking cognizance of suits. It was sufficiently

capacious to contain a great body of men, who would come together to have

their causes determined. It was a hundred cubits long, and fifty broad,

and thirty high, supported by quadrangular pillars, which were all of

cedar, but its roof was according to the Corinthian order, with folding

doors, and their adjoining pillars of equal magnitude, each fluted with

three cavities; which building was at once firm and very ornamental. There

was also another house so ordered, that its entire breadth was placed in

the middle; it was quadrangular, and its breadth was thirty cubits, having

a temple over against it, raised upon massy pillars; in which temple there

was a large and very glorious room, wherein the king sat in judgment. To

this was joined another house, that was built for his queen. There were

other smaller edifices for diet, and for sleep, after public matters were

over; and these were all floored with boards of cedar. Some of these

Solomon built with stones of ten cubits, and wainscotted the walls with

other stones that were sawed, and were of great value, such as are dug out

of the earth for the ornaments of temples, and to make fine prospects in

royal palaces, and which make the mines whence they are dug famous. Now

the contexture of the curious workmanship of these stones was in three

rows, but the fourth row would make one admire its sculptures, whereby

were represented trees, and all sorts of plants, with the shades that

arose from their branches, and leaves that hung down from them. Those

trees and plants covered the stone that was beneath them, and their leaves

were wrought so prodigiously thin and subtle, that you would think they

were in motion: but the other part up to the roof was plastered over, and,

as it were, embroidered with colours and pictures. He moreover built other

edifices for pleasure; as also very long cloisters, and those situate in

an agreeable place of the palace; and among them a most glorious

dining-room, for feastings and compotations, and full of gold, and such

other furniture as so fine a room ought to have for the conveniency of the

guests, and where all the vessels were made of gold. Now it is very hard

to reckon up the magnitude and the variety of the royal apartments; how

many rooms there were of the largest sort; how many of a bigness inferior

to those; and how many that were subterraneous and invisible; the

curiosity of those that enjoyed the fresh air; and the groves for the most

delightful prospect, for the avoiding the heat, and covering of their

bodies. And to say all in brief, Solomon made the whole building entirely

of white stone, and cedar wood, and gold, and silver. He also adorned the

roofs and walls with stones set in gold, and beautified them thereby in

the same manner as he had beautified the temple of God with the like

stones. He also made himself a throne of prodigious bigness, of ivory,

constructed as a seat of justice, and having six steps to it; on every one

of which stood, on each end of the step, two lions, two other lions

standing above also; but at the sitting-place of the throne, hands came

out and received the king; and when he sat backward, he rested on half a

bullock, that looked towards his back, but still all was fastened together

with gold." [38]

If human happiness were uniformly proportionate to the degree of elevation

in the scale of society, and the extent of worldly riches, some plausible

pretence might be framed for that eager ambition which characterizes so

large a part of mankind; but, if Solomon may be congratulated as

remarkably happy, this arose not from his being unusually rich, but

pre-eminently wise. In vain does any one expect substantial enjoyment, who

despises or neglects religion; while he who possesses it can never be

miserable. "Having nothing, he yet possesses all things." If it be not our

condition, but the state of our mind, that constitutes the blessedness of

life, exterior circumstances can neither confer nor deprive us of real

peace. The "contentment" which "godliness" imparts, is "great gain;"

because it renders its possessor, in a high degree, independent of the

vicissitudes that agitate this terrestrial scene, raises him above the

tempests of this transitory state of existence to a higher sphere, and

admits him into the very precincts of heaven. If Solomon had been endowed

with _wealth_, but remained destitute of _wisdom_, we should have looked

down upon his earthly splendour as a fading dream, or as the tinsel

decoration of a littleness which, by this means, became the more

contemptible; had he been possessed of _wisdom_ without _wealth_, we

should still have regarded him as the first of our species, and rich in

all the requisites of real felicity.

Having recovered from the ecstacy which the first impression of Solomon's

wisdom and magnificence produced, the queen of Sheba said to the king, "It

was a true report, that I beard in mine own land of thy acts and of thy

wisdom. Howbeit, I believed not the words, until I came, and mine eyes had

seen it; and, behold, the half was not told me; thy wisdom and prosperity

exceedeth the fame which I heard. Happy are thy men, happy are these thy

servants which stand continually before thee, and that hear thy wisdom,

Blessed be the Lord thy God which delighteth in thee, to set thee on the

throne of Israel; because the Lord loved Israel for ever, therefore made

he thee king to do judgment and justice."

Many reflections occur upon reading this noble panegyric. Nothing is so

conducive to the true glory of a monarch, and the real interests of his

people, as an entire self-devotement to the proper business of government.

He who avoids the splendid course of ambition, to cultivate the arts of

peace, and to promote, by judicious regulations, the internal welfare of

his dominions, may not always glitter upon the page of history; but will

live in the hearts of his people, and be embalmed in their grateful

recollections. He will have the satisfaction, when commanded by Providence

to lay aside his crown, to leave to his subjects what is infinitely better

than extended empire, an _example_ worthy of their imitation.

It becomes us to recognize a superintending providence in the appointment

of rulers to their stations--to remember that "promotion cometh neither

from the east, nor from the west, nor from the south; but God is judge, he

putteth down one, and setteth up another"--and that the gift of a good

king is a mark of favour, and ought to excite a people's gratitude. It was

because "the Lord loved Israel forever," that Solomon was placed upon the

throne. Confining our attention solely to second causes, and the limited

horizon of the political theatre, we may frequently perceive nothing but

confusion--the struggles of ambition--the uproar of passion--the ravings

of impiety--the clash of arms--the subversion of thrones--the desolation

of provinces--the flow of human blood--and an interminable series of

changes, both unexpected and mysterious;--but when the light of Scripture

breaks upon the dark and troubled scene, it discloses the footsteps of

Deity walking in the midst of the storm, regulating all human affairs, and

rendering every occurrence subservient to his own omniscient purposes.

With these discordant elements he is moulding future events, and preparing

to exhibit to the admiration of the intelligent universe, "a new heaven

and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness."

Comparing, further, the situation of the servants and courtiers of

Solomon, with that of others in Pagan countries, we cannot help uniting in

the congratulations of his noble visiter, and remarking the advantage of

religious connexions in general. Wicked association is the bane of human

society, and fatally conducive to the confirmation of evil habits and

principles, or to the excitement of them. Such persons, therefore, as are

connected with the people of God, who have pious parents or friends, or

who are servants in religious families, cannot be too grateful to

Providence, or too solicitous of improving their advantages. Let them be

attentive to the instructions they receive, and anxious to understand and

join in the devotions which are offered on the domestic altar.

But this congratulatory strain of the queen of Sheba may be applied to the

Christian age, and to "a greater than Solomon." Jesus Christ is "king in

Zion," and happy are his servants which stand continually before him, to

hear his wisdom; happy they who have "the glorious Gospel" in their

possession, and, by means of the evangelical historians of the New

Testament, witness the actions and hear the words of this divine

Instructor! The intelligence that distinguished the king of Israel was but

a single beam of light from the "Sun of Righteousness," by whom all

spiritual knowledge is communicated to the world--who is the fountain of

all wisdom, and whose glory will for ever irradiate and beautify a

redeemed universe. When believers ascend above this inferior state of

existence into the presence of God and the Lamb, notwithstanding all the

communications of inspired penmen in the sacred page--owing to the

imperfection of human language, and the circumstances of man, which, in

some cases, render further instructions _impossible_, in others

_improper_--such will be their discoveries of the glory of Jesus Christ,

that the language of the queen of Sheba will prove peculiarly descriptive

of their feelings, "behold, the half was not told me." And even here

experienced piety exclaims, "whom having not seen we love; in whom, though

now we see him not, yet believing, we rejoice with JOY UNSPEAKABLE AND

FULL OF GLORY."

The queen of Sheba did not return to her country till she had given

Solomon a hundred and twenty talents of gold, besides a great quantity of

spices and precious stones; a present, for which the king made suitable

acknowledgments, by giving her "all her desire; whatsoever she asked,

besides that which Solomon gave her of his royal bounty." Harmer remarks,

"this appears strange to us; but is perfectly agreeable to modern Eastern

usages, which are allowed to be derived from remote antiquity.

"A reciprocal giving and receiving royal gifts has nothing in it strange;

but the supposition of the sacred historian, that this Arabian queen

_asked_ for some things she saw in the possession of king Solomon, is what

surprises us. However, the practice is very common to this day in the

East--it is not there looked upon as any degradation to dignity, or any

mark of rapacious meanness.

"Irwin's publication [39] affords many instances of such a custom, among

very considerable people, both in Arabia and Egypt, though not equal in

power to the queen that visited king Solomon. They demanded from time to

time, such things as they saw, and which happened to please them; arms,

vestments, &c. What the things were that so struck the queen of Sheba, as

that _she asked_ for them, and which Solomon did not before apprehend

would be particularly pleasing to her, the sacred historian has not told

us, nor can we pretend to guess.

"Many other travellers have mentioned this custom, and shown that the

great people of that country not only expect presents, but will directly,

and without circumlocutions, ask for what they have a mind to have, and

expect that their requisitions should be readily complied with; while,

with us, it would be looked on as extremely mean, and very degrading to an

exalted character." [40]

This reciprocation of presents may be considered as illustrative of that

homage which it becomes every heart to render to the Son of God, and of

those divine communications of grace with which he will ever enrich the

believer. We cannot indeed enhance his glory by the most splendid

liberalities, or the most costly offerings; but he solemnly requires, and

graciously deigns to accept our penitence and our obedience. "The

sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O

God, thou wilt not despise." Whatever be the present state of the world,

it is pleasing to reflect that an omnipotent Providence is hastening the

triumphs of Christ; and to this wise and glorious King of Israel, all the

tribes of the earth shall ultimately present their best offerings and

their united affections. "The kings of Tarshish and of the Isles, shall

bring presents; the kings of Sheba and Seba shall offer gifts. Yea, all

kings shall fall down before him; all nations shall serve him."

But what shall be said to those who refuse submission to the authority of

Jesus Christ, and reject the blessings of his salvation? How pungent was

his address to the Jewish nation, and how applicable to such characters in

the present age! "The queen of the south shall rise up in the judgment

with this generation, and shall condemn it: for she came from the

uttermost parts of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon; and, behold, a

greater than Solomon is here." The queen of Sheba only had access to the

wisdom of _Solomon_--but you have access to the wisdom _Christ_--she came

from a _very distant region_--but "the word is _nigh thee,_ even in thy

mouth and in thy heart; that is, the word of faith which we preach"--she

came _uninvited,_ and upon the hazard of a favourable reception--but you

are _requested_ and _urged_ to come to Jesus, and partake of the

provisions which cover the well-spread table of his grace. His supplies

are spiritual, and therefore invaluable. He does not promise gold, but

dispenses "grace and glory."--He confers not the fading honours and

transient distinctions of this life, but the joys of _salvation,_ the

blessedness of _heaven_, the riches of ETERNITY!

The Shunammite

Chapter XIII.

Section I.

Characteristic Difference between profane and sacred History--the

Shunammite introduced--her Hospitality--Proposes to her Husband to

accommodate Elisha with a Chamber--the Gratitude manifested by the

Prophet in offering to speak for her to the King--her Reply expressive

of Contentment--various Considerations calculated to promote this

Disposition--Advantages of a daily and deep Impression of the transitory

Nature of our Possessions, and of keeping another Life in view.

How strikingly different is the course of profane and sacred history! The

former, searching out the most prominent characters that figure upon the

stage of life, exhibits them in pompous language, and, by emblazoning

their actions with the lustre of high-wrought description and extravagant

panegyric, conceals from view those moral blemishes which a nearer

inspection, through the medium of a more dispassionate narrative, would

discover in all their enormity. Hence the Alexanders and Cæsars of the

world, whose mighty ambition, in marching to take possession of

unoffending empires, has trampled on the rights of man, the fruits of

industry, and the comforts of domestic life, and whose laurels are died

with the blood of humanity, have nevertheless had their names transmitted

with loud applause from age to age. High station, noble birth, great

talents, or marvellous exploits, though associated with daring crime,

constitute a sufficient passport to the historic page, which too often

extols where it ought to censure: and instructs us to venerate a name

which should rather be execrated.

Sacred history pursues a different course. It records, indeed, the actions

of the unworthy as well as of the pious; not that we should be roused to

rapturous admiration of their achievements, but, by tracing the dreadful

outline of their characters, and the fatal consequences of their guilt, be

incited to avoid their vices. In general, those individuals whom civil

history overlooks, are found in the inspired records, while "the mighty"

and "the noble" remain unnoticed. Some few instances, indeed, of the lives

of great men, in point of station and rank, furnish exceptions to this

observation; but they are introduced, not because they were _great_, but

because they were _pious_; or, if impious, because they stood connected

with the church of God. Scripture does not so much furnish the history of

the world as the history of the church and of human nature. It aims to

instruct, not to amuse or astonish; and that, by the exhibition of

characters remarkable in any respect for their efforts to oppose or to

promote the purposes of eternal wisdom, or for the exhibition, in a

private sphere, of those principles, the knowledge of whose diversified

operations might prove useful to posterity.

Shunem, or Sunam, a city of the tribe Issachar, would have been scarcely

noticed or known but for the residence of an opulent female, who is

Herself rendered forever illustrious in consequence of her friendship for

the prophet Elisha, and the eminence of her religion: but, though "a great

woman," her name is omitted in the narrative--of so little importance are

those distinctions upon which mankind value themselves so highly! She is

simply designated _the Shunammite_, after the name of her city.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, about 835]

The inspired narrator notices, in the first place, the warmth of her

hospitality, and its unabating continuance to Elisha. On a certain

occasion, when he went to Shunem, she urged him to visit her, which issued

in such a mutual esteem, that "as oft as he passed by, he turned in

thither to eat bread." Among the ancients, and in a simple state of

society, where the accommodations of modern travelling were unknown, the

entertainment of strangers was considered as one of the first of duties.

In all the Arab villages this necessary practice prevails. The sheikh, or

principal person, generally invites strangers to his house, furnishes them

with eggs, butter, curds, honey, olives, and fruit, when there is not

sufficient time to dress meat: and, if they choose to remain during the

night, they are treated with the utmost kindness. The Arabs value

themselves highly upon their hospitality. "How often," says one of their

poets, "when echo gave me notice of a stranger's approach, have I stirred

my fire that it might give a clear blaze. I flew to him as to a prey,

through fear that my neighbours should get possession of him before me."

[41]

The Scriptures furnish many examples of this duty. Abraham, in

entertaining three strangers, is said to have "entertained angels

unawares;" Lot received two angels into his house, who appeared as

strangers in the streets of Sodom: Job affirms of himself, "The stranger

did not lodge in the street; I opened my doors to the traveller;" a good

widow, in the apostolic age, is described as washing the saints' feet,

relieving the afflicted, and _lodging strangers_; and Gaius is represented

as receiving Christian ministers into his house as his own children.

Although a considerable difference of circumstances exists in more

civilized countries, and in this age, so as to render such an extensive

hospitality impossible, as well as in many cases unsafe; yet no change of

custom and no lapse of time can preclude the duty itself, or diminish the

force of the apostolic admonition, "be not forgetful to entertain

strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." If an

indiscriminate admission of strangers into the domestic circle might, in

our case, be productive of great inconveniences, benevolence requires that

those acts of kindness should be shown to others which comport with our

means and opportunities, and that we should aim at such moderation in our

usual expenditure as shall enable us to discharge the obligations of

Christian charity. How, otherwise, can we "do unto others as we would that

others should do unto us?" The wheel of Providence is perpetually

revolving, and who knows but that he who is now at the summit of worldly

prosperity, or in the full enjoyment of an easy competence, may soon be

brought down to the level of the needy; and, though he may be in a

condition to _confer_ kindness to-day, may have to _solicit_ it to-morrow?

Who can be insensible to the privilege of the Saviour's final benediction,

"Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from

the foundation of the world: for I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat;

I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in;

naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison,

and ye came unto me."

The Shunammite did not entertain a stranger merely, but a prophet; and,

from the conversation of Elisha, doubtless derived that spiritual

edification which induced her to solicit his future friendship. Others

came, departed, and were forgotten; but religion in each heart converted

these strangers into friends, and cemented a holy union, which neither

time, nor change, nor death, could dissolve.

It is to be lamented, that the converse even of holy men in Christian

families is not always tinged with that piety which renders it as "a sweet

savour," and too frequently the ministers of the sanctuary fail to enforce

the admonitions of the pulpit and fix the sacred impressions of the

sabbath by "a conversation becoming the Gospel of Christ." What fine

opportunities do they possess of "winning souls to Christ," or "building

up the saints in their most holy faith," by the very nature of their

office, and the extensive private intercourse to which it admits them! It

would be well for _all_ to cultivate that sort of spiritual adroitness for

which _some_ are truly remarkable, who can, with the utmost facility,

glide from general topics of discourse to religious communications, which

are so piously, and yet so delicately managed, that the most hostile are

in some degree conciliated, and even pleased. The apostle of the Gentiles

thus exhorts Timothy, "Be thou an example of the believers in word, in

conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity."

This excellent Shunammite proposed to her husband to accommodate Elisha

with a _little chamber_ appropriated to his own use, with which he seems

readily to have complied. This is much to the honour of both; to the one

for her proposal, to the other for his compliance. It is a happy

circumstance where those who have joined hands are united in heart, and,

avoiding the spirit of domination, are equally anxious to fulfil the

respective duties of their domestic character. The ground of her

solicitation, was that of his being "a holy man of God," which, it is to

be feared, would prove a very decisive _objection_ to such a measure in

many families, who wish to conceal their gay and licentious habits from

such observance. The suggestion of this pious lady to her husband

respecting the accommodation of their agreeable visiter, may remind us of

the duty of women, 'to avail themselves of the opportunities with which

providence favours them in married life, to give such useful hints to

their husbands as their benevolence will naturally dictate. The

multiplicity of engagements in which the husband is involved, in the

prosecution of his daily concerns, often precludes those thoughts which

might issue in plans of public utility or more private kindness; while the

wife has leisure for this very important purpose. And to the honour of the

female sex let it be recorded, that the poor and the destitute are

indebted to the ladies of Britain for originating, and in many cases

carrying into execution, some of the noblest schemes of Christian charity.

Separate buildings, resembling the prophet's chamber, are frequently

attached to houses in the East, sometimes rising a story higher than the

house, at other times consisting of one or two rooms and a terrace: others

are built over the porch or gateway, having most of the conveniences

belonging to the house itself: they communicate by a door, into the

gallery of the house, which the master of the family opens or shuts at

his pleasure; besides another door, which opens from a private staircase

immediately into the porch or street, without giving the least disturbance

to the house. These back-houses are called _olee_ or _oleah_, and in them

strangers are usually lodged and entertained. The little chamber built by

the Shunammite for Elisha was probably of this description. To this he had

free access, without interfering with the family, or being interrupted by

them in his devotions, and from it he might privately retire whenever he

pleased. [42]

The peculiar simplicity of the furniture in the prophet's chamber cannot

fail of striking attention: it consisted of a _bed_, a _table_, a _stool_,

and a _candlestick._ This scanty fitting up of his room is by no means to

be attributed to disrespect or negligence: it is rather to be considered

as characteristic of the simplicity of the times. The intention certainly

was to accommodate Elisha in a manner expressive of reverence and esteem.

The original term, unhappily rendered _stool_ in our English version,

signifies one of the most honourable kind of seats usually placed in an

apartment, and is sometimes translated _throne_. In ancient times, the

nations of the East were not so universally addicted as they are at

present to sitting on the ground upon mats or carpets, but accustomed

themselves to raised seats or chairs, which were sometimes sufficiently

elevated to require a footstool. The _candlestick_ is likewise to be

considered as a mark of respect, if not of magnificence, and its

particular use was to keep a light burning the whole night. Dr. Chandler

mentions a lamp being placed in his room for this purpose in the house of

a Jew, who was vice-consul for the English nation, at the place where he

landed when about to visit the ruins of Asia Minor.[43]

In general, however, the prophets chose to live in the plainest manner:

they built their houses with their own hands, and wore a coarse dress of a

dark brown colour. Instead of availing themselves of the opportunities

with which they were often presented of acquiring riches, or of

frequenting the luxurious tables of the great, they sometimes refused the

most valuable presents. Of this we have a remarkable specimen when Elisha

declined the gifts of Naaman, and inflicted a dreadful punishment upon

Gehazi for his contrivance to secure them. If the mean attire and mode of

living which distinguished the ancient prophets cannot be viewed in the

light of an authoritative example to future ages, and if something may be

reasonably conceded to the practices of different nations, this may be

received as an axiom, that those whom Providence has appointed to the

sacred office ought to avoid all unnecessary show in their appearance, and

all ambitious aspiring after the vain splendours of life; for "the fashion

of this world passeth away." On the other hand, it is the duty, and should

be considered as the privilege of pious individuals, to whom Providence

has dispensed riches or competence, to minister to the necessities of the

poor servants of God, who, while devoting their lives to promote their

spiritual comfort, and that of their families, have neither time nor means

to rescue themselves from a state of dependence and poverty. "If they have

been partakers of their spiritual things, their duty is also to minister

unto them in carnal things."

Elisha was not insensible to all this kindness, but, on the contrary,

feeling anxious to devise some means of requiting it, he intimated,

during one of his visits, his wish to render his hostess any service in

his power, and proposed what he thought might be the most acceptable;

"Behold," said he, "thou hast been careful for us with all this care; what

is to be done for thee? wouldst thou be spoken for to the king, or to the

captain of the host?" It is gratifying to find that Elisha possessed so

much influence at court, and that Jehoram, though an impious prince,

honoured the man of God. But, perhaps, the king of Israel was more

influenced in his attachment by the miracle which the prophet had lately

performed in his favour, and the victory he had promised to him and his

royal friends Jehoshaphat and the king of Edom, than by any proper regard

to his person or his office.

The answer of this Shunammite to the prophet's proposal was brief, but

expressive: it indicated a mind full of contentment, and actuated in all

its liberal devices by the purest motives. "I dwell," said she, "among

mine own people;" _q. d_. "I am satisfied with my lot--I am happy in the

circle in which I move--I have no wish to emerge from obscurity, persuaded

that though I or my family might gain in point of distinction or wealth by

your kind interference, we should lose a considerable portion of that real

comfort which, in our estimation, is better than the greatest of earthly

possessions."

The sentiment of this pious lady is to be distinguished from the opinion

which has prevailed in some parts of the world, that the perfection of

religion consists in a total retirement from the intercourse of life to

the cell of the monk or the cave of the hermit, and in passing the days

and nights of existence in mere speculative contemplation. That separation

from the world which the word of God enjoins, is a separation of

_spirit_, a withdrawment of the affections from its criminal pursuits and

guilty indulgences. It does not interdict all intercourse with mankind, or

censure a diligent pursuit of business, but inculcates purity of

character, and teaches us so to act in the particular sphere assigned us

by the arrangements of Providence, that "our good works," may be "seen,"

and our "light" may "shine before men."

Religion is not an abstract principle, or a mere speculation; it is

operative: God is its source and end, but society its proper sphere of

action. In circumstances of perplexity and trial its real nature is best

developed, as conquering the irregularity of desire, pacifying the

turbulence of passion, purifying all the principles of the corrupt heart,

and forming men into the future associates of angels and "saints in

light." The Shunammite did not retire from her people, her family, or her

friends; but "_dwelt_ amongst them," exemplifying those virtues which

adorn domestic and social life, and securing, as we may infer from her

expressions, that general esteem which such exalted goodness is calculated

to procure. She discharged scrupulously and zealously the appropriate

duties of her situation, and shone in the orbit allotted to her by Him

whose infinite wisdom disposes all the arrangements of the natural and

moral worlds, with conspicuous brightness and useful influence.

Moreover, the language in question presents us with one of the finest

specimens of contentment in the records of history. It may be affirmed

without hesitation, that nothing can secure the exercise of this temper,

in the present constitution of the human mind, but genuine religion. In

cases where no such principle exists, dissatisfaction imbitters the cup of

our earthly portion, and all those ambitious feelings which agitate and

distress the life of man, acquire an uncontrolled ascendency. The

discourse of Pyrrhus with Cineas is only a transcript of the impatient

ambition of the generality of mankind. "If it please Heaven that we

conquer the Romans," said the philosopher, "what use, sir, shall we make

of our victory?"--"Cineas," replied the king, "your question answers

itself. When the Romans are once subdued, there is no town, whether Greek

or Barbarian, in all the country, that will dare to oppose us; but we

shall immediately be masters of all Italy, whose greatness, power, and

importance, no man knows better than you." Cineas, after a short pause,

continued, "But after we have conquered Italy, what shall we do next,

sir?" Pyrrhus, not yet perceiving his drift, replied, "There is Sicily

very near, and stretches out her arms to receive us; a fruitful and

populous island, and easy to be taken: for Agathocles was no sooner gone,

than faction and anarchy prevailed among her cities, and every thing is

kept in confusion by her turbulent demagogues."--"What you say, my

prince," said Cineas, "is very probable; but is the taking of Sicily to

conclude our expeditions?"--"Far from it," answered Pyrrhus, "for if

Heaven grant us success in this, _that success shall only be the prelude

to greater things_. Who can forbear Libya and Carthage, then within reach,

which Agathocles, even when he fled in a clandestine manner from Syracuse,

and crossed the sea with a few ships only, had almost made himself master

of? And when we have made such conquests, who can pretend to say that any

of our enemies, who are now so insolent, will think of resisting us?" "To

be sure," said Cineas, "they will not; for it is clear that so much power

will enable you to recover Macedonia, and to establish yourself

uncontested sovereign of Greece. But when we have conquered all, what are

we to do then?"--"Why then, my friend." said Pyrrhus, laughing, "we will

take our ease, and drink, and be merry." Cineas, having brought him thus

far, replied, "And what hinders us from drinking and taking our ease NOW,

_when we have already those things in our hands at which we propose to

arrive through seas of blood, through infinite toils and dangers, through

innumerable calamities, which we must both cause and suffer?_" [44]

One motive to contentment, which probably influenced the Shunammite, and

which is calculated to inspire a similar feeling in every situation, arose

from the conviction, that _happiness is much more equally diffused than we

commonly imagine_.

Whatever may be the diversities of human condition, and however preferable

the situation of some above others may _seem_, to an inexperienced or

careless observer, looking only at the _exterior_ of society, Providence

has so wisely adjusted its various inequalities, that it becomes extremely

difficult to determine who possesses the most happy lot. Wherever

particular advantages exist, they are balanced by proportionate evils, and

the reverse: the golden cup often contains a bitter potion, while sweet is

the draught and refreshing the supply, that is brought in a broken

pitcher. The poor are apt to suppose, that opulence furnishes an

inexhaustible fund of enjoyment; and that luxurious tables, sumptuous

palaces, and a splendid retinue, confer a never-failing enjoyment;

forgetting that riches create a thousand artificial wants, a thousand

fantastic desires, which it is utterly impossible to supply. The wealthy

look with pity upon the indigent, as condemned to an irksome and perpetual

drudgery, and destitute of all means of enjoying life; a pity they might

well spare, did they know that labour sweetens rest, and that unpampered

appetite has none of those loathings which luxury superinduces. Riches and

poverty are not then, according to the miscalculations of mankind, terms

of synonymous import with happiness and misery. The most exalted have many

afflictions, the most depressed many comforts. The shafts of envy fly over

the lowly cottage, and smite the towers of greatness; and while the

peasant sleeps soundly in his humble cottage,

"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."

It has been well remarked by Bishop Hopkins, that "there is scarcely any

condition in the world so low, but may satisfy our _wants_; and there is

no condition so high, as can satisfy our _desires_. If we live according

to the law of nature and reason, we shall never be poor; but if we live

according to fond opinion and fancy, we shall never be rich."

The diversities of our temporal condition, therefore, illustrate the

remark which Solomon has connected with very important advice; "In the day

of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity consider; _God also

hath set the one over against the other_, to the end that man should find

nothing after him."

Independently of these considerations, it may be questioned whether that

change after which so many eagerly aspire, would really conduce to their

happiness. The probability is, that _any_ material alteration of

circumstances is unfavourable to enjoyment, and that our respective

destinies are so wisely arranged, that each one is, upon the whole, most

likely to secure the greatest proportion of temporal felicity in the

sphere originally assigned him, than in any other. His habits, his views,

his friendships, are all fixed by his position and place in society, and

all his mental faculties have been trained, so to speak, to this very

spot. Any removal or change would be hazardous and more likely to impair

than consummate his happiness. After the growth of years, the tree cannot

be transplanted into another soil and air without long exhibiting symptoms

of languishing, and sometimes a total decay.

Another reflection calculated to promote a contented spirit is, that _if

we were capable of tracing the tendencies, connexions, and ultimate

results of all things as they are seen, by the eye of Omniscience, and

established by omnipotent power, we should perceive as much reason to be

thankful for what is denied us, as for what is bestowed_. The fancied good

which we are so eager to obtain would, in many cases, be a real evil in

possession. Our prejudices and passion prevent our forming a proper

judgment, and were not our heavenly Father influenced by a truly parental

solicitude for his people, the most fatal mischiefs would arise.

Providence has two ways of punishing a repining or an impatient temper;

the one is by _counteracting_ it, by placing the imaginary good beyond the

reach of attainment, and forcing back the wandering heart to its home and

its God, by disappointing its expectations of happiness in earthly

possessions. Such refusals, or rather obstructions to temporal success,

are indications of the purest regard, as parents, _severely_ kind, take

away from their froward children those destructive weapons which had

attracted them by their glittering appearance. Another, and a more

dreadful mode of inflicting necessary chastisement, is, by _complying_

with their wishes, and making them feel the insufficiency of what they

desired to render them happy. They "forsook the fountain of living

waters," and the "cisterns" they resolved to possess, prove to be "broken"

and empty. In this case, they suffer the double penalty of dissatisfaction

_in_ the imaginary good for which they had sacrificed so much, and of deep

remorse for a misconduct which has incurred the divine displeasure. It is

said of Israel, "he gave them their request, but sent leanness into

their soul."

In considering the _denials_ of Providence, it should not be forgotten,

that what is in part an evil, may be a good upon the whole; the amputation

of a disordered or fractured limb, as it necessarily produces great

personal suffering, is in part an evil; but, inasmuch as it saves life, it

is, on the whole, an important good. On the other hand, that which as in

part good, may, on the whole, be an evil; the rich cargo with which a

vessel is freighted may be considered in itself a good, but if it be

retained to the destruction of the vessel tossed by a tempestuous ocean,

and struck upon a sunken rock, it is, on the whole, a dreadful evil; and

yet, in the vast concerns of the soul and eternity, what multitudes act

upon this fatal principle--clinging to their treasures, though they sink

them into perdition!

It is obvious, therefore, that in order to understand the dispensations of

Heaven, it is necessary to know the circumstances of each particular case,

which the very limited extent of our present knowledge and capacities

renders utterly impossible; and it cannot be doubted, that if we were

acquainted with the _whole_ subject, the most afflictive events of life,

no less than the most pleasing, would be seen to form essential parts of

that great system of mercy, by which the universal Disposer is promoting

the ultimate and perfect felicity of all his children. "But let patience

have her perfect work," for eternity will discover these mysteries of

time. "_Now_ we see through a glass darkly, but _then_ face to face; now I

know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known."

A third consideration, which, doubtless, influenced this contented

Shunammite, was, _the vanity of the world_. The wise have always

admitted, that the three principal objects of human desire, pleasures,

riches, and honours, when weighed in the balances of truth, are "found

wanting," and that, although the misplaced eagerness of mankind attributes

to them a thousand charms, they are in reality, but "airy nothings."

"As bubbles blown into the air," says Bishop Hopkins, "will represent a

great variety of orient and glittering colours, not (as some suppose) that

there are any such really there, but only they appear so to us, through a

false reflection of light cast upon them; so truly this world, this earth

on which we live, is nothing else but a great bubble blown up by the

breath of God in the midst of the air, where it now hangs. It sparkles

with ten thousand glories; not that they are so in themselves, but only

they seem so to us through the false light by which we look upon them. If

we come to grasp it, like a thin film, it breaks, and leaves nothing but

wind and disappointment in our hands; as histories report of the fruits

that grow near the Dead Sea, where once Sodom and Gomorrah stood, they

appear very fair and beautiful to the eye, but, if they be crushed, turn

straight to smoke and ashes." If, from general reflections, we descend to

the particular details of life, it will still be found, that "while we

eagerly pursue any worldly enjoyments, we are but running after a shadow;

and as shadows vanish, and are swallowed up in the greater shade of night,

so when the night of death shall cast its thick shade about us, and wrap

us up in deep and substantial darkness, all these vain shadows will then

disappear and vanish quite out of sight."

The vanity of the world arises from the instability and mutation of human

affairs, as well as from the comparative insignificance of all its best

enjoyments. We say, "What a large estate does that distinguished

personage _possess!_"--vain word and false--he is only a tenant for a

day--to-morrow he will become the inhabitant of a sepulchre! What a

mansion is yonder!--what a lovely family! what prospects in business! what

admirable connexions! what charming society! O what an edifice of human

happiness is here!--The Providence of God blows upon the four corners of

the house, and it falls! "Here we have no _continuing_ city"--no fixed,

unalterable enjoyments--no permanent rest. Mutation is inscribed in

characters clear and legible to the eye of reason, upon all terrestrial

things; and so uncertain are our property, our health, our enjoyments, our

friendships, our ALL upon earth, that, as the thistle-down is scattered by

the gentlest breeze, these light and fair possessions may be wafted away

by the first wind that rises, or the first touch of unexpected adversity.

The impressive language of Scripture corroborates and illustrates these

representations. Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of

trouble. "He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth also as

a shadow, and continueth not." ... "Lord, make me to know mine end, and

the measure of my days what it is, that I may know how frail I am. Behold,

thou hast made my days as a hand-breadth, and mine age is as nothing

before thee: verily, every man at his best state is altogether vanity.

Surely every man walketh in a vain show: surely they are disquieted in

vain; he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them." ..."

We spend our years as a tale that is told." ... "My days are like a shadow

that declineth; and I am withered like grass," ... "As foreman, his days

are as grass, as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth; for the wind

passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no

more." ... "Man is like to vanity; his days are as a shadow that passeth

away." ... "I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and,

behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit." ... "What hath man of all

his labour, and of the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath laboured

under the sun? For all his days are sorrows, and his travail grief, yea,

his heart taketh not rest in the night. This is also vanity." ... "Who

knoweth what is good for man in this life, all the days of his vain life

which he spendeth as a shadow! for who can tell a man what shall be after

him under the sun?" ... "Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher, all is

vanity." ... "Go to now, ye that say, To-day or to-morrow we will go into

such a city, and continue there a year, and buy and sell and get gain;

whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It

is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and than

vanisheth away."